#the woods are lovely dark and deep

She loves the calm of the oak grove, the feeling of profound solitude, the presence of the pigs, their grunts of satisfaction,...

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Of all trees, birches are perhaps the most like grass. They are small, pliant, slender; and if they promise a kind

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I hated the place. I hated the mountains and the hills, the rivers and the rain. I hated the sunsets of whatever colour, I

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[He] pauses, hunkers down and lays one hand on the ground. All around, the field is rustling softly, a gentle hiss like a

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